Love Dares Greatly
by KenSan1990
Summary: Jou's been in a bit and run, and they're not hopeful he's going to wake up. In the meanwhile, Kaiba's been working on a design that can enter people's dreams. It's suggested that he can pull Jou out. But they've went through a rough break up, and it's been two years since they've even spoken to one another. Kaiba is reluctant to help. S/J puppyshipping.
1. Out of the Night that Covers We

A/n : so this plot bunny has been burning at me. I couldn't help but put it up here, really, though it is also on AO3. I'm going to try and be regular about updates. I hope you enjoy:

* * *

Out of the Night that Covers We

 _ **Mutou Yuugi**_ _four (4) missed calls._

 _ **Honda Hiroto**_ _one (1) missed call._

 _ **Mazaki Anzu**_ _two (2) missed calls._

 **〜** _ **(^**_ ∇ **〜** _ **)Mokuba**_ _ten (10) missed calls_

 _Twelve (12) new voicemails._

It was too early for all the messages piled up on Kaiba's phone. He hadn't even had coffee yet. All but Mokuba's voicemails were deleted, with the plan of listening to them as soon as he reached the office. But there was a slew of text messages underneath that needed attended to first.

* * *

 _ **Mutou Yuugi - 3:25**_

 _I'm sorry if I'm bothering you, Kaiba-kun. Have you listened to my message? It's about_

* * *

Delete.

* * *

 _ **Mazaki Anzu - 4:06**_

 _I know it's really early there, but you really should answer your phone. Unless Mokuba's already told you what happened._

* * *

Delete.

* * *

 _ **Honda Hiroto - 4:22**_

 _Answer the phone Kaiba! This is serious._

* * *

Delete.

Why did he even bother keeping their numbers in his phone? Old time's sake? Well, maybe not Yuugi...he was an employee and they discussed work, usually. But the rest of them? They should have been deleted a long time ago, so no one could accuse him of being nostalgic.

Kaiba entered his darkened office before the sun had even risen, flicked the light on and collapsed behind his desk. He pulled his laptop close and booted it up, determined to ignore his phone. Even as he deleted the messages, more kept coming through to replace them, pinging on his phone until the sound became hollow and meaningless. His hand settled over top of the device, pushed it over to the edge of the desk, and thumbed down on the volume button until it deadened to silence.

And then vibrated. And again. And again. Until it threatened to fall off the edge.

A heavy sigh. Kaiba picked up his phone again, thumbing through a string of stream of consciousness texts that Mokuba had been sending him over the last five minutes

* * *

.

 **〜** _ **(^**_ ∇ **〜** _ **)Mokuba - 5m ago**_

 _Why aren't you answering?_

 _Have you at least listened to one of my voicemails?_

 _I know you're not busy._

 _I checked your schedule, there's no early morning meetings so I guess you just left the house early because?...But you really...really need to listen to everyone's voicemails._

 _Or at least mine._

 _I'm sure they're all pretty much saying the same thing, but you really need to hear them. What we all want to tell you shouldn't be said in a text._

 _But you're gonna make me aren't you?_

 _Seto..._

 _Seto...! :\_

 _Answer, please! I really don't want this to be impersonal..._

 _You already knew didn't you? Is that why you're not saying anything?_

 _Did you listen to the voicemails?_

 _Are you okay?_

 _Answer your phone before I have to call the office._

 _I won't stop. Seriously. You know I won't. I can do this forever, I've got nothing but time because I'm not coming in today. I already told Ebi-san._

 _You shouldn't be there either. Work isn't important today._

* * *

The screen was never given time to darken before the next text arrived. The phone was squeezed tight between both hands. Never had Kaiba wanted to turn off his phone more than right then, but he wouldn't. Because it was Mokuba. Eventually he would say exactly what he wanted to say, and then Kaiba could give him a more proper response. He seriously doubted that it was more important than work.

Because it involved Jounouchi, if Yuugi's first text was anything to go off of. It couldn't be that important.

A soft knock came to Kaiba's office door. The phone was placed face down. "Enter."

His secretary, Ebi-san, stepped through. He half expected her to say that Mokuba was on the line, or that there were 'important' messages waiting for him from the nerd herd. Yuugi's would have at least been considered important enough to be passed on.

"Good morning, Kaiba-san," she said. She placed a coffee cup, acrid and inviting, on his desk as she did every morning. Finally. Some semblance of normalcy. Kaiba stole it up, inviting the warmth. "Is there anything you need before I go?"

"Have Nakajima set-up for an alpha run of _Invictus_ ," Kaiba said, and he took a sip of the coffee. His phone buzzed. A sigh was squashed in his chest.

" _Invictus_?" Ebi-san arched a brow, mouthing the words in confusion before nodding. "Ahh. Of course. Project _Invictus_. What time?"

"As soon as we can."

"There's an opening around two this afternoon." she said.

Kaiba added: "Good. Make sure Dr. Usami is called in as well. Give him all relevant details of the project."

"Yes, Kaiba-san. I'll make sure they're all notified." Ebi-san said. Kaiba nodded absently and looked down to his phone. He read through the new text messages in quick succession.

* * *

 **〜** _ **(^**_ ∇ **〜** _ **)Mokuba - now**_

 _Please, Niisama, it's important..._

 _It's about Jou. He's been in an accident. A bad one._

 _That's as much as I'm telling you. You have to call me back for the rest._

 _I need to talk to you._

* * *

Jou. Accident. Bad. Those were the only words that were popping out at him. Jou. Accident. Bad. Enough that his thumb was hovering over the 'reply' button. Jou. Accident. Bad. The cursor was blinking at him, demanding to be used.

Kaiba closed his eyes as his head swam.

"Is everything okay, Kaiba-san?"

His eyes flicked back up to her, brows furrowed. Ebi-san wasn't the emotional sort, it was why he liked her. She didn't waste time on the trivial details, least of all the condition of her employer. "Fine," he answered, brusque. "Just make sure R and D prepared for a complete test run. Last time they were missing key parts."

"Of course, sir."

Ebi-san bowed her head and left him to his silence, his eyes still skimming over the last few texts until all of the words blurred together into an unreadable mess. His phone dropped onto the desk. His face fell into his palms as he shuddered out a breath.

It had been two years.

Two years since Kaiba had managed to keep everyone from saying a word to him about Jounouchi Katsuya. Two years since he had argued with Mokuba, forbidding his little brother the utterance of the name in his presence. Two years since he had moved on from a messy and public break-up.

He picked up the phone, again, and flicked to Mokuba's contact, staring at the picture Mokuba had chosen for him. A smiling image of the brothers sidled together, Mokuba dressed in a cap and gown, displaying his diploma proudly. Another arm was snaked around Mokuba's shoulder, but the rest of the body had been cropped out. Sometimes Kaiba forgot how Mokuba left little reminders for him.

He tapped the contact to call Mokuba, the phone pressed to his ear.

 _Jou. Accident. Bad_.

Those words had pulled him right back in.

* * *

"Just got ahold of Shizuka," Honda said. He swept back into the waiting room, three Styrofoam cups balanced in hand. One was deposited to Yuugi. Honda dropped into a seat opposite of Yuugi, beside Mokuba. A Styrofoam cup was offered to the younger Kaiba who still stared down at his phone, scrolling through the stream of messages that he had sent Seto. All were tagged with 'read'.

"That's good to hear," Yuugi said. "How long until she's here?"

"Said she should take like two hours," Honda replied.

"You tell her I coulda sent someone to grab her?" Mokuba asked, finally reacting. He took the offered Styrofoam cup, murmuring thanks. "A helicopter could get her here faster."

Honda shrugged. "I did. She was already crying. Prolly wants the time to process."

Mokuba sighed. "Yeah. I guess. What about Anzu?"

"She said she might not make it until tomorrow. She has a show tonight, but she's booked the next flight back," Yuugi replied. Mokuba nodded. "You get ahold of Kaiba-kun yet?"

"He's ignoring me," Mokuba replied.

Honda clapped on Mokuba's shoulder, squeezing it in encouragement. "Don't expect miracles, kid."

Mokuba snorted. Twenty-one years old and everyone still called him 'kid'. Any other time, he would have harassed Honda, and endless joke that persisted in the group despite Mokuba towering over almost all of them. Except for Jounouchi. But for now, he accepted it with a sad smile, wanting to be small again. Because then maybe Seto would take all his texts a little more seriously.

"Maybe I should tell him it's my fault," Mokuba said.

Honda shook his head. "Its not your fault."

"It might as well be," Mokuba shot back. "He was with me!"

Pulling his feet up into the chair, Mokuba buried his face into his knees, biting into the fabric of his jeans.

"Mokuba..." Yuugi's softer voice drew Mokuba's head up, his eyes wavering, dangerous and scared, over the edges of his knees. "It's not your fault, really. Accidents happen."

"Not to me."

"You couldn't have predicted this," Yuugi said.

Mokuba's forehead buried back into his knees, not accepting such a simple reasoning. It didn't feel that simple. Accidents didn't happen to him, or the people that he knew. There was always an ulterior motive. Someone always had a reason to try and hurt him or Seto. Why should Jounouchi have been spared? It wasn't so long ago that he was practically family.

Smaller hands were on his shoulders. Yuugi hovered over him, offering a reassuring smile. "It's going to be okay. Jou's in good hands, right?"

Mokuba nodded. "The best."

"Alright. Then focus on that, okay?"

Another nod, weaker. It didn't change the fact that he still thought it was his fault, but the least he could do for Jou was give him the absolute best care that was available. Money stretched a far way in that regard.

Lifting back up, wiping the flecks of tears in the corners of his eyes, Mokuba let out a breath he'd been holding in for far too long. All they could do now was wait, Mokuba staring at the doors that led into the trauma bay. Where was Jounouchi now, he asked himself. Still in emergency, or headed to surgery? The triage nurse was tight-lipped, no matter how much weight Mokuba tried to throw around. Maybe it was for the best. As much as he wanted to know about how Jounouchi was doing, he was already nauseated at the recollection of what had happened. He could still hear the sickened 'crack' as the car zoomed through the crosswalk without any signs of stopping. He could still see the way that Jounouchi landed, face-down and rag-dolled, nothing but a mess of limbs that curled up as the car screeched, fish-tailing around a corner.

"Mokuba?" His eyes snapped opened. Yuugi was staring at him. "Your phone's ringing."

Looking down at his phone, Mokuba wasn't sure whether to smile or quiver in fear. 'Seto' flashed across the screen, the familiar ringtone looping.

Standing up, Mokuba began to drift towards the exit as he answered. "Niisama?"

" _What's going on_?" Seto asked.

"Something happened last night," Mokuba said. "Jou and I were...we were heading out, you know just to do stuff. Meet up with everyone and I...well I just, I took my eyes off of him for a second. We were crossing the street...and he, he..."

" _Mokuba, breathe. Calm down. Tell me what happened._ "

Mokuba sucked a breath in through his nose. Shuddered it out his mouth. "Jou met me at my apartment last night. Me, him, and Honda were all planning on heading out, maybe meet up with Ryou, just have a night. Grab drinks. Something, I don't really remember. I know I called a car just in case, and we were heading over to it. It had parked on the other side of the street, I thought it was weird, but Tsuneo was waiting outside for us so...we just went to cross and...there was this car..."

" _Are you alright?_ " Seto interrupted.

"Huh?"

" _Were you hit?"_ Seto asked. Mokuba shook his head. Maybe he hadn't actually read all of the texts. " _Mokuba? Are you hurt?_ "

"No, no. Not me, Niisama. Jou. The car hit Jou and just took off." Mokuba said it so fast that he wasn't even sure what he said. He paused, waiting for his brother to respond. He could hear Seto breathing, that was a good sign. He hadn't hung up yet. "Seto?"

" _Jou was in a hit and run?_ "

"Yes."

" _But you weren't hurt?_ "

"No. I must've turned around or something. I don't know. One minute he was ahead of me, the next he was on the ground."

" _I see,"_ Seto sighed. " _What's his condition?_ "

"I don't know," Mokuba said. He wasn't sure how many times he had said that now. "The doctors won't tell me anything. I just know he's probably been in surgery for a few hours now."

" _You're staying at the hospital then?"_

Mokuba nodded, then stopped himself. "Yeah. Yeah, I'm gonna stay here. Yuugi's here, so's Honda. Shizuka's on her way..." Mokuba said. Anzu was to, but that would take a while. "Are you going to come by?"

" _I hadn't planned on it_."

"But Niisama—"

" _I don't have time to be waiting around. There's things that need attended to here, especially since you're going to be absent._ "

Mokuba sighed. "Like what?"

" _The fiscal quarter wrapped up last week, so now we have to focus on the fall quarter, figure out the plan for that, I'm going to have to meet with Iwami in your stead at eleven to go over the details of the subsidy,_ " Mokuba recalled that meeting. He was supposed to head it, not Seto. " _And I'm going to be monitoring the alpha test of_ Invictus _at two._ "

" _Invictus?_ That stupid brain-to-brain VR project? I thought you dumped that."

" _It's been on hiatus, yes, but—"_

"So you're just stalling?" Mokuba accused. "You just don't want to come here. Are you really still that bitter at Jou?"

" _Mokuba, I don't want to start this with you right now_ ," Kaiba said, his voice dipping into a growl. " _My presence there will change nothing._ "

"That's not the point," Mokuba replied. "Jou needs you."

"Needs _me? Don't be ridiculous. What he needs is medical care, which I'm sure you've planned to foot the bill for,_ " Seto said. Acid dripped from his accusation. Mokuba flinched, his fist clenching and shaking at his side.

"He's going to need you."

Seto laughed. " _He didn't need me two years ago, and he doesn't need me now. And you know it._ _I'm happy to know you're alright, but that's all I'm concerned about."_

A dark question entered Mokuba's mind. An ultimatum that he didn't want to ask Seto, but the executive was being stubborn. Mokuba choked back tears. "...what...what if..."

" _No, Mokuba."_

"What if he doesn't make it?" Mokuba asked, summoning all of his courage, the words tearing out of his throat before he had a chance to reconsider them. His hand covered his mouth.

There was a pause, and Mokuba was sure he heard something like Seto clearing his throat. But the pause was noticeable enough for Mokuba to know that his brother was, at the very, thinking about the question.

" _...this conversation is over. Call me when you get home safely."_

The line died, and Mokuba dropped the phone by his side, trembling. Pushing off the wall, rubbing his sleeve at his cheeks, he trekked back slowly, dragging his feet until he made it back into the stale waiting room. It had grown a little bit darker, he was sure of it. He fell back into the seat by Honda, burying his hands between his knees.

"What did Kaiba-kun say?" Yuugi asked.

"He's happy I'm okay," Mokuba said. His chin lifted off of his chest. "And that's about it."

Honda clicked his tongue against his cheek, and went to say something, though Yuugi was shaking his head to stop the the brunet. Honda's jaw clicked shut, and he side-eyed Mokuba. The grey eyes may have been poised towards Yuugi, but they were wholly absent, reflecting back the bland rows of waiting room chairs, catching a glimpse of the people that would stroll by.

"He'll come around," said Yuugi. "I'm sure he still cares about Jou, he just needs a little time to...process."

Mokuba's head dropped to his chest again.

* * *

The core of the Research and Development team stood behind thick paned glass, staring into the rounded, sterile chamber. Inside was a simple set up: two chairs, reclined and sat back to back to one another. Wires sprouted from the base of each chair, leading several feet away to the left and feeding into a long panel of computers manned by two of the senior most technicians. On the right side were two tables, different machines being set up in careful order by a man who had 'Usami Daigo, M.D.' hanging off of his badge.

The door slid open, and the technicians looked up, bowing as Kaiba entered, Isono in short step beside. They moved aside as Kaiba strode up to them. "I'm assuming you have the headset, Kaiba-sama?" The technician, Nakajima, asked.

"Of course," Kaiba replied. He used a nearby chair to set his briefcase on, opening it up to reveal the piece before slipping it onto his ear. "It should be close enough to calibrate."

Nakajima turned away and started typing away as Kaiba pressed a button on the headpiece, catching the side of it glow lightly in his peripheral. "Syncing is complete. Seems to be stable."

"For now," Kaiba replied. Terse laughter came from the other technician.

"What sparked interest in _Invictus_ again, if I may ask?" Nakajima said.

A laptop also came out of the briefcase, and it was balanced on the edge of the computer panel. The technicians edged out of the way as Kaiba took his place, connecting the laptop to a port in the computer panel. "I've been working on new code. The only problem we were having last time was the neural mapping."

"Understandably. Keeping the computer moving as fast as a human brain, second for second...I mean, it can think that fast, but not necessarily in real time like you and Mokuba imagined."

Kaiba backed away as the program began to load into the rest of the network. "It needs to tap into the subconscious." Kaiba said.

"I'm sorry?" Nakajima asked.

"It needs to have a full map of the brain, and if it wants to keep up the relay or another player, it needs to tap into the subconscious. Think before we think."

Nakajima furrowed his brows and shot a glance over to the doctor who was still fiddling about, turning dials on several of the machines. "Do you mean memories, Kaiba-sama?"

"Something like that," Kaiba said. He rounded over to the chair and sat into it, pulling his legs up and crossing his ankles. The top buttons of his dress shirt were undone as the doctor placed several stickers on him.

"I don't think that's possible," the technician replied.

"I've already had an AI capable of simulate entire rooms and construct people specifically from my memories," Kaiba replied. "Finding a way to create a bridge to the subconscious, to find a way to explore, and learn, and enjoying a dream or someone else's more lucidly, shouldn't be much more difficult."

"But that is just _your_ mind, sir. You worked on that for months...and it was much less sensitive with cards! They can be loaded into a databank, memories aren't necessarily required. Much less the subconscious!"

"Mind your tongue, Nakajima-san," Isono interjected.

Rolling his head over to the doctor, seeing where his heart rate was showing on the screen, Kaiba nodded, satisfied. Nakajima realised that his employer was hardly listening to his arguments anyways, even if he was being reprimanded by the faithful suit.

"Start running the program, Nakajima. I've already constructed a simulated mind to relay mine against," Kaiba ordered. The man grumbled, and Kaiba was sure he heard something akin to 'all of this for a video game'...

A needle pricked into Kaiba's arm, his fist clenching in reflex. A bead of blood was wiped away.

"You'll be in conscious sedation," Usami said. "We'll be able to wake you if the test becomes dangerous."

Though the words were heard and processed, Kaiba could already feel his eyes drooping, his breathing evening out but lessening. His body relaxed into the chair, head lulling back. A single sticker was placed under his bangs, against his temple, though he didn't even flinch to the touch. His eyes closed.

" _...vitals stable...brain waves are regular...REM sleep..._ "

It was a distinct floating feeling, Kaiba's body washed in a soft wave of water, lapping up over his calves, up his thighs. His eyes opened up, and the distance was a blurry horizon line. The ocean went on as far as the eyes could see. As he turned to look around, the edges were frayed, rounded, unfinished.

"Incomplete..."Kaiba said to himself. But he could feel his trousers sticking against his calves, a very distinct and uncomfortable sensation. Sand itched against his back. He reached back, patting it away. "That's right...Mokuba uploaded a beach memory."

"Niisama!"

Across the way, far against the less detailed background, Mokuba, no older than thirteen and dressed in his swim trunks, waved at him. He was knelt beside a sand castle, returning to molding it in his hands. But he wasn't alone.

Jounouchi sat across from him, a colorful beach towel draped over top of his head, a green pail stuck between his folded legs, patting away and packing sand against the edges. His head lifted up, and he waved, the shovel still in his hand. The bucket was overturned, set beside Mokuba's monstrous castle, and lifted up with precise ease. The new addition to the castle didn't crumble.

Kaiba walked towards the memory with hesitation, but each step became heavier. His feet were sinking into the sand until he was ankle deep, legs unable to pull upwards no matter how much force he drove into his knees.

" _...heart rate is up..."_

Whipping back, Kaiba's eyes widened to the darkened road behind him. It wasn't the beach anymore. No. He recognised this tight road in Domino. He'd driven down it too many times not to know. It was the road that lead by Mokuba's apartment.

The images were much clearer, much sharper. Each outline of the skyscrapers in the background. The glisten of KaibaCorp Tower in the distance. He turned back around, hoping to be met with the pleasant scene of Mokuba still playing in the sand.

No. Everything had morphed away. The rest of the street stretched before him, dipping into the horizon. Cars drove by, their lights blaring, their tires splashing up puddles. "Mokuba?" Kaiba called out. It stood to reason that Mokuba would be lingering around his apartment.

Approaching the building, Kaiba wondered if his mind would be able to take him all the to the top floor, to where his little brother lived. He wondered how much of the building he remembered in detail. He had to admit, compared to the beach scene, this vision was much more exciting. This was exactly what he was imagining when he had first formulated this project.

Sliding his hand against the cool plastic chassis of a car parked on along the street, he approached the building with confidence, continually looking around to see just how crisp everything was. The rhythmic clicking of the crosswalk signal as it counted down, The fresh bread he could smell wafting from on the bakery a block up. The balmy wetness of the air after a fresh rain.

"Seto!" Kaiba's ears perked up to the sound of his name. His eyes widened to the sight of the blond across the street from him, standing on the corner and staring at the crosswalk signal. It flipped from 'stop' to 'go'.

"Katsuya," he whispered. Jounouchi seemed in a hurry run across the street, laughter trailing behind him. Becoming louder. Much louder than it should have. The sounds began to crescendo, loud and distorted. He was sure that he could hear things that has no place in this place. The sound of glass shattering broke through the cacophony.

Kaiba's hands covered his ears and his head shook. Jounouchi was still running towards him, arms open. A large shard of glass, covered in stars, reflecting the crescent of the moon, came crashing down in front of the blond. Kaiba's eyes snapped closed, and he sucked in a deep breath, trying to refocus on some other memory. Some other time. Some other place.

When he opened them again, the space was blank, the darkness never-ending. A single spotlight just a few paces ahead of him. Shards of the sky were scattered all over the floor, glass crunching as he shifted his weight from one foot to the other. Tentatively he walked forward. Something was laying in the centre of the light.

"... _brain waves...erratic. Heart...spiking._.. _Kaiba-sama...!"_

Jounouchi laid on his back in the center of the light, his head turned away, arms rested on his stomach. One of his legs was turned in the wrong direction. As Kaiba reached the edge of the light, he could see blood pooling, expanding towards him. He took a step back to avoid it, snapping his gaze back up Jounouchi. His head had turned to Kaiba, showing off a face cheeks, blood dripping from his nose. He sported a crooked smile.

"Katsuya?"

"Seto..." Jounouchi moaned.

"No." Kaiba shook his head and took another step back. The blood pool seemed to follow him. "No."

"I need you,..."

Kaiba's eyes squeezed closed. This dream could be changed. He just needed to focus. Focus on something else. Focus on work! His office! All he needed was to think about his desk, all the details of it. The papers. The calendar. The laptop.

"Kaiba-sama!"

Kaiba's eyes snapped open, his breath quickened against a heavy chest. Sweat trickled down his face. He tried to move and push himself up, but was pushed back a heavy pair of hands. He writhed beneath them. A light was flashed in his eyes and he blinked several times.

"Sir...? Are you alright?"

The room was bright, rounded. Usami and Nakajima leaned over him, their faces soured but concerned. Kaiba jolted upright, his head spinning. The headset was thrown off and landed between his knees.

"Why did you pull me out!" Kaiba demanded, his voice slurring.

"Your vitals were erratic, sir, we had no choice."

"Unacceptable! Recalibrate it, we'll run it again." Kaiba lifted up off the chair, pulling the stickers of the heart monitor with it. His feet hit the ground, but his knees didn't lift, pulling his down almost the same as his feet sinking into the sand.

Isono caught him, pulling him upright and leading him to back down. "Careful, Seto-sama."

"Where's my phone?" Kaiba asked. As he closed his eyes, the image of Jounouchi's bloodied face, crooked smile, flashed before him. "Isono."

"I have it."

Kaiba clutched it between his hands, flicking to the wall of text Mokuba had sent him hours before. His stomach turned as he began to type.

* * *

Four hours, five hours, six hours. No news. Mokuba's insistent asking for any kind of details hadn't rubbed them the right way. He was far too abrasive, and growing worse. They'd stopped answering him altogether.

Pacing around the waiting room, tossing his phone between his hands, Mokuba glanced to Shizuka, leaned up against Honda's shoulder while he consoled her. Yuugi had left, grabbing lunch for everyone even though everyone had said they weren't hungry. They needed to eat something.

Mokuba came to a sudden stop, his phone vibrating against his hand. He turned it over.

His eyes widened to a text.

* * *

 _ **Seto**_ **(¬_¬)**

 _Send me status updates._

* * *

For the first time in hours, Mokuba smiled.

A/N: I'm going to try and post weekly. Maybe every Tuesday? We'll see!

in the meanwhile, I hope it's not too confusing of a premise? Til next time, KenSan out!


	2. Black as a Pit from Pole to Pole

A/N: moving on!

* * *

Black as a Pit From Pole to Pole.

* * *

 _ **〜(^∇^~)Mokuba - 17:27**_

 _Jou's out of surgery._

* * *

The text message had been read on the lock screen of Kaiba's phone, but he hadn't interacted with it. There was nothing to reply to, not in his mind. It was just enough information for him to know that, currently, Jounouchi was not dead.

His focus was more oriented towards _Invictus_ , and the failure the rest of the day had become. Once the technicians had pulled him out of the test the first time, his mind was unable to reach a state that the device would activate again, regardless of how drained his body felt.

It wasn't his body that mattered, he had to realise. It was his mind, restless and curious about the prior test, about where the simulation had bled into his own dreams, where it became less of a tangible experience and more of a display or errant symbolism. Symbolism that had gotten to him and, worse yet, symbolism that he had reacted to.

Two hours were wasted in the lab, pouring over what may have caused the vividness, enough that Kaiba's body had reacted to it physically, as it had during the many prior tests. "When it comes to matters of the brain, not all functions are understood, Kaiba-san, least of all dreams and sleep," Usami explained, uninitiated and receiving a blank look from Kaiba in response. "From my data, you were having a nightmare. But, given the severity of your reaction, it was bordering on a night terror."

"Night terror." Kaiba repeated. A statement, not a question.

"Yes. Essentially its just a heightened nightmare, but it does seem more real to those that are experiencing them."

"I know what a night terror is," Kaiba replied. The headset and laptop was packed away. Data readouts were printed to be poured over later. "Your services are no longer needed today."

"One more bit of advice, Kaiba-san," Usami said, going to stand as Kaiba began towards the door. "Philosophy textbooks may aid you in this venture more than medical ones."

The advice hadn't been replied to, but it hung in his head, and when he returned back to his office, he wasted little time setting up his laptop and bookmarking a long list of the philosophies of dreams; once paperwork was finished for the day, the theories were skimmed through. They said that dreams were the true world; that they were an 'ignored, rejected self'; that they were a place that lessons could be learned.

They were pushed away in lieu of something more lucrative. Kaiba turned his attention to the code instead, thinking that it was a mistake in the lines. It must have been; perhaps the parameters hadn't been set correctly and it was causing overstimulation. A missed semi-colon, an unclear 'if'. In the end, a Kaiba was trying to make Invictus read a mind and make a controller out of it—perhaps it wasn't sensitive enough. It didn't know when he was wanting to take control.

So many possibilities, all of which needed to be tested. Several different variants of the code were going to need to be rewritten. When it went through testing again, he would make himself do it consecutively. His body wouldn't be so easily overburdened again.

Hours ticked by. Kaiba registered that Ebi-san had left, two knocks on his door to denote so, but hadn't moved from his seat anymore than to stretch his back when it became stiff. It was easy to lose time. Code; consult his scribbled notes and detailed drawings about brain functionality; delete everything, reheat the untouched coffee; code again.

* * *

 ** _〜(^∇^~)Mokuba 20:42_**

 _Critical condition_

 _stable_

 _no visitation._

* * *

Three hours was a long time to hear nothing, Kaiba thought. Given his initial response, thinking back to Jounouchi's body laying before him, bleeding and pleading, he had figured Mokuba would give him a constant play by play over the course of the day. Two messages...maybe he would have sent more if Kaiba replied.

There was still no reason to reply.

* * *

No matter how many times Mokuba had been in the KaibaCorp. Tower after hours, the eerie emptiness it left behind was never familiar. The front lobby was devoid of the usual rush of employees and visitors. The desk, usually manned by a pair of smiling ladies, was empty, their computers blinking with the KC logo bouncing around corner to corner. A janitor was buffing the floor, so at least it wasn't quiet.

The security officer that sat for the night shift nodded to him, but they never met eyes. A magazine had his rapt attention.

Mokuba took the elevator up, sliding his access badge in order to get straight to Seto's office. The ride was just long enough that his back rested against the wall and his eyes started to close, sleep ready to overcome him, before the carriage shuttered to a stop and he instinctively walked out and towards Seto's door, able to hear machine-gun typing before pushing it open.

Seto hunched against his desk, his face paled with a light green glow from the computer screen.

"Still not reading my texts?" Mokuba asked.

"I've read them," Seto said.

"My phone still says 'sent'," Mokuba replied, and he pulled up a chair on the other side of the desk. "You were the one asking for updates."

"I've read them," Seto repeated. "Out of surgery, stable but critical. Sounds as if it's going about as well as can be expected."

"I guess," Mokuba shrugged. "They kicked us out," he said. "Only Shizuka-chan was allowed to stay for tonight. Family an' all that."

"Mm."

Mokuba leaned his cheek into his hand. "What are you still doing here? It's like...midnight."

"Going over _Invictus_ ' failure today," Seto replied. "It went about the same as the last time I tried it. Though it's pairing with the second mind this time."

Mokuba couldn't say he was really interested in the project. It had been abandoned over a year and a half ago after repeated failures, when Seto decided that it was best to focus his efforts elsewhere. "Who's mind were you using?"

"Yours," Seto replied. Mokuba softened. "The beach memory came up."

"That one's my favourite," Mokuba said. "Especially when Jounouchi ends up with the fish in his shorts, after the big wave?" He snorted a little bit, thinking to the blond jumping around to try and get it out. Mokuba wasn't sure if he was allowed to mention Jounouchi's name if it didn't involve the accident. Seto didn't seem to flinch, but his typing had stopped.

"I didn't get that far," Seto said. He reached out for the coffee mug, staring at the amber ring in the bottom. "That's where it started glitching."

"What happened?"

Seto looked up from beneath his lashes, his jaw ticking to the side. The coffee mug was sat down, and he leaned further forward, knitting his fingers together. "My mind took over. Took me to the street around your apartment, and..." Seto shrugged. "It just went strange. The sounds became too loud. The sky shattered..." he paused, making sure his eyes met with Mokuba's. "I saw Jounouchi, laying on the ground. Bleeding."

Mokuba leaned away from the desk, head bowed. "Maybe you were thinking about what happened today?"

"I don't know."

"It's okay, you know, to be upset," Mokuba said. Seto pushed his chair out, the laptop closed and unplugged. "You can talk to me if you're upset."

"I am not upset."

"You can't lie to me, nii-sama," Mokuba said. "You were with him for six years. That doesn't just go away."

"I beg to differ," Seto said.

Mokuba huffed. "If you want to go see him, you should."

"I don't want to go see him," Seto replied. "You'll tell me everything that's going on, he'll get better, and then we'll all move on with our lives."

Mokuba didn't even know if it was going to happen that way. There was no guarantees yet, with no information to go off of, other than the fact that Jounouchi was still hanging on. That could have changed overnight at this rate, Mokuba knew. He had asked Shizuka to keep them all updated, though he wasn't sure if she was coping any better than he was.

"I think it was my fault," Mokuba said.

The briefcase was locked down. Seto's hands flattened against the surface. "How do you mean?"

"I think they were after me," Mokuba said, and a shiver went through his body. "It's my fault Jou's like this, nii-sama. They were going for me, and I turned around and...and Jou was there instead..."

Seto rounded the desk quickly and pressed Mokuba into a tight embrace, rubbing his back, slow and calm. A hiccuped breath rippled through the younger brother. He'd felt small all day, just a child curling up into a plastic chair, having tantrums to find out information, when he should have been holding his head, being an adult. But in a Seto's grip, it felt right. Even if his face was able to reach Seto's shoulder instead of press into his hip.

"It alright, Moki," Seto whispered. "You're okay. And Katsuya will be fine, too."

Mokuba glanced up when he heard the use of the blond's first name, catching Seto's glassy eyes as they twitched, thinning and staring out over the skyline, wondering if Seto was just trying to console him or if he actually meant it.

"I hope so," Mokuba said. "I...talked to the police about it a bit. They're gonna look into it."

"They'd better," Seto said. Mokuba pushed himself away from the embrace, rubbing at the corners of his eyes, knowing the entire space was reddened and raw from his on and off feelings unable to be contained. "I'll speak with them if they don't take it seriously."

Mokuba piqued up. Was Seto...worried? "You will?"

"Of course," Seto said. "No one tries to hurt you and gets away with it."

Mokuba deflated. It wasn't the answer he wanted to hear, but he supposed it was better than nothing at all.

That said, as he began to walk out of the building with Seto, he could say that there was something a little different. There was something about Seto that he couldn't place, and when he looked up to at his brother, Mokuba noted how he looked a little lost. It may have been just Seto thinking, judging by the way that his eyes were flicking back and forth, thinning and widening. Mokuba knew he was debating with himself, arguing with some voice in the back of his head.

The kind of look, hungry and confused, that Seto would get long before, after Jounouchi said something to him that just didn't compute.

Mokuba leaned against Seto's shoulder. He could safely say that, yes, Seto was worried about Jounouchi.

* * *

In the middle of the next day, just as a meeting was about to wrap up, Kaiba received another set of texts, though, this time, he paid a little more attention to them.

* * *

 _ **〜(^∇^~)Mokuba - 10m ago**_

 _Got to see Jou._

 _You want me to start with the good or the bad?_

 _Because it all kinda sucks but...I don't know what you might think is important or not._

* * *

Kaiba contemplated the question. He didn't really need all the intimate details on Jounouchi's condition, but his curiosity got the better of him. Mokuba was going to give him everything, or so he suspected, judging by his phrasing.

He wasn't sure if knowing would hurt more or less than not.

* * *

 _ **Seto (¬_¬)**_

 _Wherever makes the most sense to start._

* * *

Mokuba wasted no time sending a quick succession of texts.

* * *

 _ **〜(^∇^~)Mokuba -now**_

 _Leg's busted up pretty bad._

 _Couple of broken ribs, punctured lung._

 _He's not breathing on his own right now. Broken collar bone. Something to do with the eye socket and cheek? His face is a mess. But..._

 _He's got a skull fracture, too. They had to relieve some swelling this morning..._

* * *

Swelling. And Kaiba wondered if there was some kind of bleeding going on and Mokuba was just being kind to him by not saying. Then why tell him everything else?

* * *

 _ **Seto (¬_¬)**_

 _You're allowed to visit him now?_

* * *

Even though the curiosity was still plaguing him, Kaiba didn't want to know anymore details. The image of Jounouchi, his sun-kissed skin marred with a rainbow of bruises, attached to all manner of devices while propped in a stark white bed, surrounded by family and friends who would all speak as if at a wake, was enough for him. Mokuba was just making the picture more vivid.

* * *

 _ **〜(^∇^~)Mokuba - now**_

 _For a little bit. And one at time._

 _They don't want us around too long. We might overstimulate him, they say._

 _Whatever that means._

 _He's not awake...I don't think he hears us._

* * *

That was one of those debates Kaiba had no particular say in. He'd been in the room when Mokuba and Jounouchi used to binge through dramas that they swore they had no interest in, and plenty of them had the same old trope: a girl in a coma, waited on by her lover, reacting just enough to make everyone convinced that their words were making it through somehow. Such a cliche. If that was how everything worked, they would just be able to talk people out of comas and they wouldn't be as serious as everyone thought they were.

But it was something to speak about with Usami, he considered.

* * *

 _ **〜(^∇^~)Mokuba - now**_

 _Call me if you're upset Seto._

 _Seriously._

* * *

Making a brief trip back to his office, sweeping up all the things he would need, Kaiba began back down to the R and D labs for another scheduled alpha test, this time with the new parameters in place.

Everything was set up, the headset slipped on, his chest clustered with stickers, smaller ones planted against his temple, the needle pricked against his skin.

"... _REM sleep triggered..._ "

But the simulation didn't come. It was a mess of corrupted data, or so the long walls of black covered in green text suggested. His mind was static that was trying to make the image real but finding nothing more than moving shadows.

Still, Kaiba felt present there, perhaps in a dream that lacked a simulated memory from Mokuba. It skipped the relay all together.

His feet didn't quite touch the ground, even when he walked towards the static.

Two figures were in the static, standing just meters from one another. One was making large, swooped arcs with their arms, pointing outwards, towards the long scrawls of green text. As if that was what he was talking about. The other stood still, stance a little wide. Defensive.

He? Was it a he?

Kaiba glided closer, the snow of the static widening into streamed rivulets, like rain washing over the pair.

Kaiba opened his hands and tried to force the curtain of static to move out of the way, to give him a better view. As he gazed around, the only thing that seemed to change was the ability to augment the static and make the screen full of green text disappear. Another swipe of the hand in front of it, trying to force it away. He sighed, and focused again on the image playing in front of him.

The first shadow glided over to the second, hands on shoulders and shaking it. The hands were thrown away. Kaiba pressed himself forward, pushing his hand through the static, wondering if he could simply step through it. It felt like cold and wet, powdery, more like snow even if it looked like rain. Both hands were held out to the static, the flakes settling in his hands, sticking to his fingers before melting against the heat of his skin.

A flash made him look up. Another flash, somewhere in the peripheral.

The second shadow had come over to the first, and he saw a hand raise and strike against the head, the cheek, of the first shadow. The 'he'. The first shadow launched forward, only to be stopped by a third shadow that came out from the vastness of the static, pressing between the pair, arms widening to spread the pair apart.

Kaiba pressed his hand deeper into the static, trying to push his body through, but it was frigid. His joints immediately felt pained, his skin turning papery and numb. He was barely up to the shoulder before he had to back out. And as he did, something else emerged from the static.

A small object clinked out, jumping twice before landing at the toe of his shoe. Reaching down, he plucked the small ring up. A silver band with four prongs, bent, the inset missing. When he looked back up, the shadows were gone. It was just static.

"... _entering NREM sleep...ahh, waking..._ "

Opening his eyes, Kaiba was much more conscious of the world around him. The ceiling lights were much brighter than his dream had been. The cold of the snow lingered on his body, up to his shoulder, and as he brought his hand up, his fingers were pinched like he held the ring, even though it wasn't there.

"You woke on your own, Kaiba-sama," Nakajima said. "Did it go well?"

"There's no audio now," he replied. Isono stepped over to him, helping him sit up. "The controls still don't work. I can't manipulate anything. Load the next set of codes we'll test that next."

"Yessir."

Lulling his head to his left, eyeing where Usami sat calmly adjusting a machine, Kaiba asked: "I can hear you as I drift off," he said. "And I heard you in the midst before."

"You are under light sedation. You can hear us because you're not truly asleep."

"I see," Kaiba said. "I wonder if I could hear you if I were fully unconscious."

"Perhaps," Usami said. "It depends on the person."

"Do comatose people dream?" Kaiba asked. Isono handed him a water bottle, and he muttered thanks.

"Depends on high their brain function is. Some people think so, but there's nothing conclusive," Usami said. He eyed Kaiba with a questioning gaze, as if a little scared by the question. "You aren't thinking of making yourself comatose for this project, are you Kaiba-san?"

The thought was entertained for a few seconds.

Kaiba's head lulled away. "No."

* * *

The office wasn't left until somewhere after nine in the evening. Time had to be made up for Kaiba was testing Invictus, feeling as if he had wasted it by napping in the middle of day, playing around in dreams. Well, one dream. The second hadn't even managed to manufacture anything other than him staring at the back of his eye lids, occasionally drifting off, before waking up to be disappointed.

The code would be tweaked some more.

Mokuba's last text message, to which he simply replied 'I'll call you regardless of my emotions', still weighed on him.

Kaiba couldn't say he was upset. Even when he reread the list of issues that laid ahead of Jounouchi, he felt little more than indigested, and that wasn't strictly a feeling so much as it was a reaction. Mokuba would argue that a reaction was a feeling. If he had been indifferent, he wouldn't have reacted to the the list of injuries, and would have been more clinical about it all.

Going through the back and forth of the kind of petty banter he would have with imaginary Mokuba over the semantics of his feelings was interrupted by the actual Mokuba calling him. He answered it through his car's dashboard touchscreen.

"What's up, kiddo?"

" _You leave the office yet_?" Mokuba asked.

"On the road now," he replied. "Why, were you heading over?"

" _No. I just wanted to ask if maybe you'd want to grab a late dinner. I'm guessing you haven't ate yet_."

Kaiba smiled to himself. "Not unless you've begun to count coffee as a food."

" _In your dreams_ ," Mokuba snorted. " _There's that noodle place near me that I like a lot. It's usually open pretty late. That sound okay_?"

The noodle place that Kaiba was sure he knew Mokuba's exact order to, because it was the same place that Mokuba always went when he was upset, whether it be over something at school, a bad break-up, something innocuous at work, or, when worst came to worst, the aftermath of one of the kidnap attempts when he was younger.

Already changing lanes with the destination in mind, Kaiba agreed, and he met Mokuba at the small shop, seeing where he was already inside and at a back corner both, talking to the waitress.

They spoke of nothing important. Even though Mokuba had spent the last thirty six hours convincing Kaiba to open up about his feelings and, in the midst, Kaiba must have asked Mokuba plenty of times if he was alright, to a positive answer, it was only now that Mokuba seemed to want to vent otherwise about the whole ordeal. Kaiba asked no questions, just listened to Mokuba while he slurped through a large bowl that was double noodle, double egg, and eaten almost twice as fast as usual.

Once Mokuba finished, both with his sadness and his food, the topics trickled elsewhere, none of which involved Jounouchi, even though Kaiba kept expecting a waterfall of memories to come pouring out of Mokuba. Kaiba was aware of the close proximity to the hospital, and was waiting somewhere along the line for Mokuba to suggest that he go, but it never came. It was just talk, mindless chit-chat that they had while watching people pass by outside.

They must have sat for the better part of an hour and a half, and bowls had long since been swept away, before Kaiba asked: "What did you do with the things that Jounouchi never picked up from the house?"

Mokuba's eyes had wandered out the window, cheek leaning in his hand, his face washed with blue and red light from the 'Open' sign that they sat behind. "He was 'Katsuya' yesterday."

"A slip of the tongue."

"Mm-hm," Mokuba didn't press it. "He didn't want them back, so I didn't force him to take anything. But I kept them, just in case he changed his mind."

"He still hasn't?"

"Nope," Mokuba sighed. "Why you ask?"

Kaiba thought back to the feeling of holding the ring in his hand, and slid his fingers together. "Then you still have that ring, don't you?"

Mokuba's eyes widened, hand slipping from his face. "Why...?"

"All this just had me thinking on it, that's all," Kaiba said. The stare that Mokuba gave him in response was disbelieving, his lips pursing. He leaned back in the booth. "Really, Mokuba, that's as much as there is to it."

"Yeah, I...have a hard time believing that, nii-sama," Mokuba said, and he began to smile, buttoning it down when Kaiba lowered his head, disapproving of Mokuba's interpretation. "Do you want—?"

"No," Kaiba replied.

A light snicker from Mokuba. "Whatever," he began to slip out of the booth. "I'm gonna head home. I'll...probably be in to work tomorrow, okay?"

Kaiba nodded. "I'll let Ebi-san know."

He stood with his little brother, and they walked out together, with Mokuba touching Kaiba's shoulder as he began to gravitate towards his own car. The elder brother looked back, expecting more words, the final push for him to go and visit Jounouchi, but it still didn't come. Mokuba smiled.

Kaiba smiled back, weary, nodding. "Go home, Moki."

"I will."

"Get some sleep," Kaiba ordered.

Mokuba shrugged. "Maybe. Only if you do."

"Not likely."

Another shrug. "I'll see ya in the morning, nii-sama." Mokuba said, and he raised a hand as he turned away, fishing out his keys soon after.

The laughter in his chest didn't feel like it belonged, and Kaiba tried to force it back down as he slipped into his own car, getting back on the road. The manor wasn't far from here, he would go home and try to get a few hours of sleep, not that it particularly mattered to him after that day's testing. But he found himself pulled in the opposite direction, turning around on a side street and heading towards the hospital, coming up closer on it sooner than he realised.

The entire time he sat with Mokuba, he expected his little brother to offer for him to go and sit with Jounouchi. Had Mokuba offered, he had planned to decline. Mokuba was already heartbroken and, though he hadn't said anything, looked like hell. The kid needed sleep more than anything else, perhaps to clear his mind like the venting had.

Now that he was alone? Kaiba couldn't say what the pull was, but he was in the parking lot before he argued to himself that he wasn't going to go inside. And he was at the desk, asking the triage nurse about Jounouchi when he told himself that he wasn't going to walk up to the ICU, on the fourth floor.

"Jounouchi-san can only have one visitor at a time," she told him as he went to the elevator. This time of night, he imagined, there would only be one person there. Maybe two.

Once up there, staring down the long and empty halls, Kaiba slowed his gait, passing by many doors and hearing ominous noises. Light beeping, the hissing of tubes that were doing more work than a body. Heavy coughing came from one room as the door was on its way to be closed.

As Kaiba approached the room, he knew he had the right place. A mousy-haired, older woman sat outside of it, a book in her hands, tissues balled in her lap. If she was outside, someone else was in. "Kawai-san," He said, addressing Jounouchi's mother.

The woman looked up. "Kaiba-san," She said, a little cold. "What are you doing here?"

"I've come to see your son," Kaiba said. "I take it his sister is with him?"

Kawai-san shook her head, closing her book. "She went home with Anzu. The nurses are doing something," she mentioned. "It's been a while, they should be out soon. But I don't want you in there with him."

"I don't particularly care what you want."

The woman scowled, the book cracked back open. "You're just going to make him sad. That's all your good at."

The door opened up, a nurse walking out and bowing politely, holding the door open. "Ten minutes," she said.

A passing glare was given to Kawai-san as Kaiba entered the room, the door closed behind him. The place was dim for the evening, even if the occupant was unaware of the day and night cycle. It was private room with enough space that, when it was allowed, all of Jounouchi's friends could have sat around him. For the time being, there was only a single, unoccupied chair. A small, pink purse left beside it. Shizuka's, he imagined.

The room was filled with the same hissing and beeping sounds Kaiba had heard on his way in, though much louder, harder to tune out. At first, he didn't look at Jounouchi, but instead at the machines that surrounded him. Some of the same that he had been hooked up to not much earlier, though these seemed to be double the size and number. He traced a tube down Jounouchi's left hand, set level with his shoulder. His nails were still uneven messes, where he choose instead to bite them rather than learn to use a nail file.

There were a few bruises. Some shaped scrapes from hitting the road. His skin was still very much tanned, probably from still spending too long in the sun doing whatever oddjobs he felt like picking up when the tournament season was slow.

A second was spared to look at Jounouchi's face, darting away just as fast. Not yet. Instead, he went down, tracing the different wires that curled against the hard collar around his neck and disappeared into the neckline of the gown. Further down still, there was little to see under the blanket, except for where it was moved aside for his leg, propped up on pillows and covered in thick bandages that went above the knee and underneath the end of the gown.

A heavy breath was sucked in, and Kaiba took a step closer to lean against the railing on the bed. Finally, he looked up to Jounouchi's face. He was still distinguishable, though barely, through the swelling and blackened bruising, the myriad of little cuts that were sealed closed with little bandages, though one of them ran thick over his nose. It was the spot over his ear, where a square of gauze sat heaviy over a space where his hair had been shaved, that had Kaiba's stomach turn into a maelstrom.

He collapsed backwards into the chair, landing on the edge of it and gripping the arms tight. His lips twitched, begging to say something, but shaking his head. Jounouchi wouldn't hear him.

The chair was scooted a little closer, and Kaiba leaned forward against the railing, arms over and the tips of his fingers touching against Jounouchi's wrist, slipping beneath the bracelet. He didn't want to touch the blond any further, though he knew that he wasn't about to break.

Curling his arm up and away, Kaiba buried his face in the crook of his elbow, wiping away the wetness from his tear ducts and concealing the sob that began stealing the air from his lungs. His hand grabbed at the hairs on the back of his head, trying to stop himself.

"Katsuya...goddamn you..."

* * *

A/N: hope you enjoyed! Til next time, KenSan out!


	3. We Thank Whatever Gods May Be

A/N: if anyone's interested this is also posted on AO3 under the same title. its a little further along there.

* * *

We Thank Whatever Gods May Be

Kaiba was out of the room long before the nurse needed to tell him anything. He whipped by her, and Kawai-san, catching the mother's critical eye, and her sudden rise from the chair, as he took long strides down the hall. If she was following him, he heard nothing but the sound of his own shoes clacking against the tile.

Turning the corner to the elevator, Kaiba found his legs numb, stalled in place, as he leaned his shoulder against the wall to keep upright. He couldn't precisely say what it was that he was feeling at that moment. Everything was very out of body, his mind wasn't in the hallway, yet still his body propelled forward. He pushed off the wall and steered towards the elevator, jamming the call button.

Kaiba knew that his legs had outran his mind, leaving part of him still sitting in that dim hospital room. As he stepped onto the elevator, he could still hear the gentle whooshing of air, the metronome bleating of a heart that was still going. Was that supposed to make him hopeful? A body was lifeless, useless, without its mind to wake it, control it, and make its decisions. Jounouchi was just a...a pile of bones and muscle and skin! He may as well have been held together with paper clips and twine, for all the technology was worth.

The doors closed, and Kaiba situated himself to face where they would open again, his lips parting at the distorted reflection of himself in the shined silver doors, smeared with fresh handprints. His own, perhaps, as he forced himself inside.

This, too, was just a pale, disheveled, lifeless body that stood before him, Kaiba thought. There was no mind in it—that was back in the room with Jounouchi, appraising every last gash, every last bruise.

" _I need you_ ,..."

"No," Kaiba said aloud. His hand slipped into pocket, producing his phone. Mokuba had said to call him if he was upset. "No, m-mutt, you don't need me..." Mokuba's contact was pulled up, and his finger scrolled along the picture, following the arm to the body that he knew Mokuba had cropped out. His thumb kept slipping against the glass to see to the rest of picture. It bobbed against a blackened edge, popping back into place.

Looking up, back to his pallor and questioning eyes, Kaiba shook his head. He was better than this. Jounouchi was nothing but a stain in the past, and that was all there was to it. These events were tragic, but ultimately, nothing changed.

His mind finally caught up with him, bleeding him into the present moment. The doors opened up in front of him. His mind had a tendency to wander to far-fetched, grandiose ideas, but it always had to return back to the present, to his focused blankness. An anchor to reel in the fanciful and far-fetched.

Kaiba's eyes widened.

That was it!

Kaiba found his mind suddenly flooded with a plethora of questions, theories, and hypotheses, all that regarded Invictus. How he could make the mind into controller, and from there, where the player could decide where it was going and the program remain stable in the process. All of which was going to need to be reprogramming, and it couldn't wait.

Kaiba couldn't look back; he couldn't let his mind wander. There was plenty of work to do, and none of it involved thinking about Jounouchi.

Clicking the phone screen to black, squaring his shoulders and straightening his back, Kaiba stepped out of the elevator and headed for the exit. One foot in front of the other. Again and again. Heel to toe.

* * *

"Good morning, Ebi-chan!" Mokuba said, smile plastered on his face. He was almost bursting off of the elevator onto the floor of the executive suites.

"Good morning, Mokuba-kun. Welcome back," the secretary greeted. A cardboard coffee carrier was placed on her desk, and one of the three cups slid to her. "Oh, thank you! Aren't you a darling?" Though as she looked down at the cup, her fingers turning it slow, she asked: "What do you want...?"

"Nothing, nothing," Mokuba laughed and shrugged. "Seto in the middle of anything?"

Ebi-san opened up the lid off the coffee cup, blowing on it. She eyed Mokuba, suspicious of his noncommittal laughter. "He's not been in yet."

Shouldering the office door, Mokuba arched a brow. "It's like... nine. You sure? Has he called in?"

Ebi-san shook her head. "He sent me a late message saying that you would be in and that's the last I've heard from him. He has a meeting in thirty minutes, and I can't seem to get ahold of him."

"Of course not," Mokuba sighed. As if anyone had in the last few days. "I can give it a shot. As long as you don't tell him that I came in kinda late..."

Ebi-san clicked her tongue, the coffee cup raised as if in agreement.

Entering into Seto's office, kicking the door closed behind him, Mokuba peered around for signs of life, but the chair was pushed up the the edge of the desk. Not that it mattered much. The office was always a sterile, ordered place. Seto's methodical nature made it seem as if there was never meant to be a person there in the first place. Every piece had a place, as it ready for a photo op, even if there was never a camera that had been allowed in the CEO's private space.

The drink carrier was sat on the desk, one of the cups placed by the monitor. Stepping around, Mokuba peered down and found his brother's briefcase tucked underneath. A quiet huff; Mokuba pulled out his phone.

* * *

 ** _〜(^∇^~)Mokuba_**

 _I went for coffee! : D where r u?_

* * *

There were only so many places he imagined where Seto would have run off to, despite how large the tower was. If he had to guess, he would have found Seto down in the R and D labs, leaning over the necks of the engineers, or possibly making rounds into marketing to take a look at their proposals for the upcoming product releases. If he had any recollection of their hectic schedule over the last few days, too, Seto was also nearing the end of completion of the Duel Academy, and the meeting he was about to miss had something to do with that—Mokuba could fill in for him on that one, if it was necessary.

Glancing down to his phone, seeing no response, Mokuba slid his phone into pocket and left the office. "He's here somewhere; his briefcase is hiding under the desk."

"Odd," Ebi-san said.

Crossing the floor to an opposite door, one with his own nameplate slid into the side with the title 'Vice President' etched underneath, Mokuba entered his own space, kicking down the door stopper. Ebi-san's phone rang, and she answered, hushed, while clacking away at the keyboard. Back to the normal—the daily grind. His own phone would be ringing any minute, disturbing the quiet. Which was fine for him. The quiet of the offices felt too normal for everything that had been transpiring the last few days.

Setting down his own coffee, he scooped up the files that had been left for him, Seto's neat, tiny scrawl on several sticky notes left over top of them.

' _Regarding the Academy meeting._ ' Yep. He was going on his brother's stead.

' _Regarding marketing's holiday plans. Talk to Ishiguro, he listens to you.'_ Of course he does, Mokuba thought, but then again, marketing and PR were his strengths.

' _Regarding...'_

 _'Regarding...'_

 _'Regarding.._.'

Ten different files in total, full packets of information for the rest of the week, it almost seemed like, though he couldn't tell. Leafing through all of them, noting that Seto had gave him instructions for each, Mokuba only grew more curious. The only time these sorts of things were left to him was when Seto was on an extended trip and needed Mokuba to keep their main headquarters running smoothly.

* * *

 _ **〜(^∇^~)Mokuba**_

 _Seto._

 _Where r u?_

 _What's going on?_

 _I'm worried about you!_

 _You didn't take off or something did you! Please come get the coffee!_

* * *

Phone set aside, Mokuba went around to his computer, and found his corporate tablet leaned up against the monitor, a semi-circular headset hanging off the front of it. It reminded him of the prototype headset that Seto had originally designed for Invictus, though this seemed much more refined than before and, judging by the lack of flare and bubbled seams, hastily put together.

Facial recognition opened his tablet, and he laid it flat, staring at the document opened up on it. A blueprint, with scribbled sketches along it, showing the differences between the old headset and the new one. Seto's writing was unmistakable.

'Put it on and calibrate it.'

Consulting the blueprint on how to do so, turning the headset over and right ways, Mokuba slid it beneath his ear, feeling a prong poke into his temple, while a small arm hugged along the back of his head. His finger pressed into a small button on the underside of the earpiece, another pressing the home button on his tablet. The headset began blinking violet in his peripheral.

Lowering into the chair, pulling his keyboard out from the drawer slid, Mokuba's eyes kept sliding between everything before him. The tablet, showing where the headset was in the middle of syncing, the files, strewn over his desk with varying degrees of importance, and the long list of emails now appearing in his inbox, all work related.

All of this as if nothing had happened; as if he hadn't been away for two workdays for the hell of it. Not even Ebi-san had said anything. He wondered if Seto had said anything. No, of course he hadn't. Why would he let anyone know about personal turmoil for either of them?

The headset was thrown off before fully calibrating. He didn't want to work on this stupid project because his brother wanted a distraction. His tablet flashed a loud, red 'X' and prompted him to reconnect.

Maybe he wasn't as ready to come back as he thought he was.

"Good morning, Kaiba-san," Ebi-san chirped, and Mokuba stood up from his desk, popping out to see his brother striding in, Isono in two shortly behind, keeping up with his employer's slow but steady pace.

Seto's feet dragged. His eyelids drooped. No wonder the work seemed so hasty, Mokuba thought. He hadn't been joking that he wouldn't sleep. He didn't appear to have even changed clothes, only removed his suit jacket.

Mokuba's phone buzzed in his pocket, and he saw Seto flash his screen where he had just replied, a crooked smile on his face. Well, better late than never.

"Good morning, Mokuba," Isono greeted. "Is everything going alright?"

Mokuba nodded. "Yeah, everything's alright for now, thanks," he said, his heart softening. Maybe Seto had said something to Isono. That would make a little more sense. "Are...you just getting here?"

Isono shook his head. "I've been with Seto-sama since around five this morning," he stated. "I'm here to escort you to the meeting."

Mokuba looked up, and saw where Seto had crept into his office and took up the coffee cup that had been laid on his desk, coveting it. Yep. Tired. Up all night, if Mokuba had to guess right, chasing after some kind of inspiration.

"Escort me?" He laughed. "I think I can find the conference room, thanks."

Going back into his office, Mokuba grabbed the files that Seto had left him, as well as his tablet, still flashing the red 'X'. He frowned, picking up the headset and slipping it back on, restarting the calibration. Mokuba exited office, locking the door. Seto had emerging from his with his briefcase in hand. The coffee was nowhere in sight, already demolished.

"We received a call this morning from the police commissioner," said Isono. "They are concerned that you may still be a target amidst the investigation; your brother is equally worried."

"Oh."

"It's just a precaution," Isono said. "I wouldn't worry."

Seto approached him, leaning over to see where the piece was around Mokuba's ear. It became a solid violet line in the younger brother's peripheral. "Is this thing what you've been working on all night, nii-sama?"

"Mm."

"...why?"

"I realised what was wrong with it," Seto replied. "It needed a hub world."

Mokuba blinked. "That...seems like to easy of a fix. Does it work?"

"I don't know," Seto replied. The three of them headed into the elevator. Isono pressed for the fifteenth floor, while Seto pressed for basement two. "Haven't had the opportunity to test it yet."

"Are you going back down now?"

"I am."

"Since you're up here, why not come to the meeting with me?" Mokuba asked. Seto's head lulled over, and the tiredness in his face leaked through, heavy. "Yeah...okay, gotcha. Never mind."

"After you're finished with the Academy meeting and Ishiguro, I need you to meet me downstairs," Seto said.

"For what?"

"Testing."

And then, for the second time, Mokuba removed the headset. "No."

"No?" The headset was pressed into Seto's hand. "Why not?"

"Nii-sama, I...look, I like this idea. I really do, I think it's gonna be awesome. But it's...it's about dreams, okay. Right?" Seto nodded. "You've told me what sort of dreams this thing is conjuring for you right now. I don't want to be a part of that."

"Mokuba, that was once."

"How about this?" Mokuba asked. The elevator doors slid open. "You go see Jou, and then I'll help you test. Maybe it'll make you a little less..." his hand went up and down Seto's figure as he stepped out.

"Mokuba..."

"I'm just worried about you, nii-sama. I think it may be more healthy this way." A short pause from Seto, his eyes wandering over Mokuba's face, blank and lost. The doors began to close. "Is that fair?"

"Fine." Seto said.

Mokuba could see the way that he was clenching the headset, and could hear the weight to Seto's one word reply. There was something he was missing still, but it would have to wait for later. Right now, he needed to be fill his big brother's shoes when Seto needed it the most.

His phone buzzed in his pocket.

* * *

 _ **Seto (¬_¬) - now**_

 _I'm fine. Focused on something at the moment. I'm downstairs._

 _Thank you for the coffee. I needed it._

* * *

"You need a lot more than that..."Mokuba muttered.

During lunch hour, Mokuba checked in on Seto down in the labs, finding that he was still taking calls when they were necessary. For the most part, he seemed to be going back and forth with the technicians on the more mundane side of the programming while the set-up was disassembled. The chairs were pushed off to one side, and wires were being rearranged into the computer mainframe.

"Are you gonna be you tomorrow or am I?" Mokuba asked, and he pushed his lunch towards Seto, who was more interested in the coffee that was provided.

"I'll be me tomorrow. Too much to ignore. The meeting went well?" Seto asked, and he reached over to take a few bites from the lunchbox, clearly made up for two.

"Yep. Ebi-chan emailed you the details. Any progress?"

No answer. That was the extent of the conversation; the technicians drew Seto back over to something that they were fiddling with, and Mokuba didn't think he would hold his brother's attention any longer.

The rest of the day went on monotonously, and by five, Mokuba left out the door, a separate bodyguard following him while Isono went back to Seto. Mokuba demanded updates, and forced Isono to remind Seto to eat dinner, as well as attempt to get him to go home. Pictures included.

There wasn't a doubt in Mokuba's mind where he was going; he was back at the hospital, nodding to the nurse as he approached Jounouchi's door. Even through her thick veil of auburn hair, he could tell it was Shizuka sitting outside the door. Her arms held tight around her purse, elbows on her knees while she scrolled through her phone.

"Hey," Mokuba greeted.

"Hey."

Mokuba sat beside her. "Your mom in there?"

"Yeah. They're letting us in longer now. And together. They say he should be out of the worst of it," she said. "But Mom just likes the alone time. And...I needed a break."

Mokuba smile-grimaced, nodding. "I understand."

Silence fell between them. Mokuba's hands settled together in his lap, his eyes on the bodyguard at the end of the hall. He wondered, as he looked back at Shizuka, if she blamed him as much as he blamed himself. If someone was really targeting him, and that Jounouchi was just collateral damage.

"Hey, Mokuba-kun." Yuugi's voice drew Mokuba out of his thoughts.

"Yuugi," Mokuba looked up, seeing the spiky haired man coming up, a small basket of flowers in his hands. "Hey. Seems we all had the same thought, huh?"

"Mm-hm. I think Honda said he might drop by if he doesn't get off too late," Yuugi said. "Did Anzu come with you?" He asked to Shizuka.

"She just left to go get something to drink. She should be back in a minute," Yuugi smiled, and sat down to the other side of Shizuka. She was eyeing the flowers, reaching out and rubbing the petals between her fingers. "Did you bring those for a Katsuya?"

"Yeah. It was kinda Grandpa's idea, too. Since hospitals smell so bad, he says."

"He's not wrong," Shizuka laughed. "I'm sure he'll love them. We'll have to take care of them."

Mokuba's tenseness loosened, and he peered over the flowers that Shizuka held her hands out for, looking over the simple white petals on them. "Any news?" Yuugi asked.

"Yeah, any good news?" Mokuba piggy-backed.

"Well. Sort of?" She said. "They think they'll take him off the ventilator in a day or two. And while they were doing some tests, he reacted a bit when they moved him. So they think he has a better chance of waking up, but..."

"That's great!" Mokuba said. He would cling to anything.

Shizuka nodded. "Yeah. It shouldn't be too long, I don't think. Katsuya's a fighter."

"An understatement," Yuugi said.

The door opened, and Kawai-san stepped out. "I thought I heard more voices out here," she said. Mokuba leaned forward. Though he and Kawai-san had sat together the day before, waiting for their respective turns, they hadn't said much to one another, only shared a box of tissues.

Now, her eyes were more pointed on him.

"I'm gonna go set the flowers up in there," said Shizuka.

"Here, I'll come with you," Yuugi said. Mokuba stood to follow them.

The mother's eyes softened as her daughter brushed by her, and moved to give Yuugi a little more room. When Mokuba approached, she blocked the door. "Can I talk to you a moment?" She asked.

Mokuba's hands dug into his pockets. "Yeah, of course."

"Thank you," Kawai-san closed the door behind them. "I wanted to say that I...I do appreciate that you're helping my son in this tough time. Really,..."

"But?" Mokuba asked. How many businessmen had he heard trail off like that before?

"But, and this is nothing against you, but I would be even more appreciative if you could leave Kaiba-san out of it."

"What?"

Kawai-san sighed. "He came by last night, stayed for maybe five minutes, stormed out, and then Katsuya had an adverse reaction. His blood pressure dropped and his heart beat became irregular—"

"Seto was here last night?" Mokuba asked.

"Yes. Unfortunately."

"Seto came by," Mokuba said to himself. His vision blurred, and his head dropped. Why hadn't Seto said anything? Especially after the proposal for testing? Collecting a shaken breath, Mokuba looked up to Kawai-san, his hands digging further into his pockets.

"Could we arrange that, please? For Katsuya's sake?" She asked.

"I don't know," Mokuba said. "Probably not. Nii-sama does what he wants."

"So I've noticed. But if you could talk to him—"

"It's not really going to work, you know," Mokuba said. "If he wants to come by, he's going to come by."

"They're not together anymore," said Kawai-san. "He doesn't even have a right to be here. I know Katsuya wouldn't want it."

"You do?" Mokuba asked. He stepped closer to Kawai-san. "He told you that? When? Last night? A minute ago?"

"Well, n-no."

"Because I talked to him three days ago. When he could still talk! When's the last time you talked to him? Huh? How do you know what he wants!" Mokuba's hands balled into fists in his pockets. "My brother has every right to be here as much as Yuugi, or Shizuka, or...or even you! You certainly weren't there when Katsuya needed food, or a roof over his head, but my brother was!"

"Look, I'm just trying to think what's best for—"

"Seto pulled Katsuya out of a dark place," Mokuba said. "Where were you then? Huh? Where was his fucking mother! Huh!"

"Mokuba-kun?" A hand laid on Mokuba's shoulder, and he flinched, his arm flung back towards the touch. Anzu lingered next to him, face contorted to fear and hand clenched at her chest. "Is everything okay?"

"I'm done," Mokuba said. A brief look was spared to the mortified mother, before he turned and began down the hall, hands returned to his pockets.

"He's always so nice..." Mokuba heard Kawai-san stammer.

"What did you say to him?" Anzu asked.

"...nothing."

Mokuba braced his hands on the wall beside the elevator, one palm slamming into the bricks, cursing Kawai-san. Cursing Seto, of all people, but only for hiding the truth from him. At least maybe, now, Seto could come to grips with it. So said his sudden desperation for a distraction.

* * *

Weeks went by. Mokuba visited every day after work, but never heard another word of Seto doing the same. At least not from the silent Kawai-san, who would greet him when he arrived and say her good-byes when he left.

By the end of the first month, the visits were becoming more scarce. Kawai-san came up on weekends. Shizuka spent as much time as she could when she wasn't in classes, using a majority of her off days with her older brother. Often, Mokuba would find her leaning against the side of the bed, reading her textbooks out loud to Jounouchi, displaying the two-page art spans and snickering at the critic's interpretations.

Plenty of her drawings of him, quick character studies, were hanging up on the small closet in the corner of the room. They were taped up by the nurses, set into even rows showing the different stages of healing. A steady progression of a face full of cuts and bruises to just the uneven crook of his nose and the still-red scar forming over his right ear, though the hair was growing in around it again.

"Mai said she's coming back Europe here in a few days," Shizuka was saying as Mokuba walked in. "She's gonna come visit, so she says you gotta look good for her, okay? I'll bring in some scissors, we'll get you a hair cut. Look at this."

Setting her sketchbook on the edge of the bed, Shizuka reached up to brush some of Jounouchi's hairs out of his eyes. Her hand trailed down his cheek and to his chest, settling against his breast and watching as her hand raised and lowered, slow and steady.

"He may need a shave, too," Mokuba said.

Shizuka chuckled, her hand lifting from Jounouchi's chest. "You hear that? Mokuba thinks you need to shave. I just did that three days ago," she said. A moment of quiet, and then to Mokuba she said: "He says 'ain't nothin' wrong with lookin' a little rugged'."

Mokuba failed at containing his laughter as he sat down beside Shizuka. "He said that, huh? Yeah, well, there's a difference between 'rugged' and 'messy' Jou."

It didn't seem like there was a point to talking to Jounouchi at first. Mokuba didn't believe that he was hearing anything to begin with, so there was no point in babbling. But Shizuka always was, making up conversations and doing a poor impression of her brother's slang, though her hands always seemed clenched in fists at her hips, imitating his machismo instead. After awhile, it was easier to sit there talking to Jounouchi, even when Shizuka wasn't there. Yuugi had a tendency to do the same, giving his best friend updates about everything that was happening with their friends. When the nurses would enter and shift him or change the sheets, someone would usually make a reply in Jounouchi's stead, to get the nurse to 'hmph' at them, suppressing a smile.

"I like my messy; Mai's gonna love it too. No shavin' me Shi-chan!" Shizuka imitated.

"But nii-chan..." she answered in her own own voice.

Back to her impression. "Nope! No razor near me!"

Mokuba still couldn't stop himself from laughing. "I remember, one morning, we were getting ready to go somewhere...but we were just getting on a plane first, not actually going, and nii-sama refused to leave until Jou shaved," he said. "That was such a weird argument. He ended up doing it for Jou. Put him in a chair and everything."

Shizuka chuckled. "Sounds about right."

"You remember that, Jou?" Mokuba asked.

"I bet he does," Shizuka said. She returned to her drawing, looking up every so often to catch the light as it spilled over Jounouchi's face. "He always told me about those stupid fights. I think he liked them; said he liked seeing Kaiba-kun so serious about the stupid things."

"Yeah, I think you're right."

Mokuba slipped his phone out of his pocket and began scrolling, scanning over a few emails. It was a pleasant sound, Shizuka's pencils scratching against her sketchbook. He felt at peace sitting and talking like this, reminiscing in way he hadn't been able to with either Jounouchi or Seto. Though he could say that Jounouchi was far less stubborn than Seto, and occasionally would slip after a beer or two.

"Mom said Kaiba-kun stopped in once," Shizuka said. "Is he going to again?"

"I don't know. He's been pretty wrapped up in work."

Shizuka rolled her eyes. "Is that what he's saying when you ask?"

"I stopped asking. Waste of breath."

"Well, you know, maybe he just needs reminded," said Shizuka.

Mokuba's phone lowered to his lap. "He's gonna work himself to death instead," he said. "He's gone off the deep end on this crazy project of his. I think that's his version of dealing with this."

"Maybe," Shizuka said. "What project?"

"I..."He really couldn't say, was what he began with. But what did it matter with Shizuka? "It's this weird dream project."

"What? Duelling in a dream?" Shizuka asked.

"No, not like that," Mokuba said. "It's really supposed to be like a virtual reality where you can like, make your own game in your head while you're asleep. Saving your dreams, too, maybe. Seto said it has a lot of different possibilities, but I don't think he exactly knows what he wants to do with it. He started it two years ago or so, something like that, just as something to play with. Mess around with the capabilities of the neural interface he made with the newer Duel Disks."

"That's kinda neat. Making games in your dreams?"

"And playing with other people who are online. Building together," Mokuba said. "I think it's a little scary. Cool, but scary. People's brains are a mess."

"Yeah," Shizuka said. Her pencil sat down on the sketchbook, and she lifted it up to compare her drawing. "I mean, if it has so many capabilities, he should put it on Katsuya and see what happens. We can see what he's dreaming. Or someone can."

Mokuba's thumbs hovered over his phone screen, and his head lifted, overlooking Jounouchi. "You think he's dreaming?"

"I dunno. Probably," she replied. "He always had pretty active dreams. He'd always be rolling out of bed."

Mokuba began to text Seto, erasing it several times, before finally settling on the right words.

* * *

 _ **〜(^∇^~)Mokuba - 15m ago**_

 _Hey. Got an idea. Hear me out, seriously._

 _You still need someone to Invictus with? If you think you have it stable enough right now why not use try it with Jou? He's hooked up to monitors already, so he's all set to go. And, in some way, he's perpetually asleep._

 _I know that sounds wrong, maybe. I don't really like to think of it that way, but you said this project had a lot of possibilities. Maybe it could help in the medical field, too? Jou could maybe be the test for that._

 _We could find out what happens to a person's subconscious when they're in a coma like he is. It may provide some pretty valuable data for us, at least as far as the project is concerned._

 _And if we're lucky, maybe it can help us figure out a way to help people that are stuck like he is. Maybe we could also wake Jou up. Wouldn't that be pretty awesome?_

* * *

The texts came through in a flurry, and when Kaiba looked at his look screen, he was a little mortified by Mokuba's long blurbs of text that forced him to read them in app. It was one thing to receive a million texts at once that all said nothing, but these? Mokuba wanted something, and he wanted it bad.

"Ebi-san," Kaiba said, stopped by his secretary's desk as he read through the texts.

"Yessir?"

"...can you pull up Dr. Usami's profile for me?"

A few strokes of the keyboard. "What are you looking for, sir?"

"Does he work in Domino Hospital at all? Or is he mainly out of Touto?"

"Give me a moment," she said.

As she skimmed through the profile, Kaiba replied to Mokuba.

* * *

 _ **Seto (¬_¬)**_

 _The project is stable, but we still have bugs after the hub world is breached._

 _Comatose patients don't dream. They hardly have brain functions._

* * *

An immediate reply:

* * *

 _ **〜(^∇^~)Mokuba - now**_

 _You don't know that. No one knows. But we could know. You could be the first person in the world to find out. Wouldn't that be a good way to market the technology later?_

* * *

Kaiba felt a small laugh bubble up in his chest.

"He has connections to Domino Hospital. He works in their neurology department, it appears. At least when the need to call in an expert."

"Perfect," Kaiba replied. "Contact him and have him sign over authorisation to allow for Jounouchi Katsuya to be moved into the KaibaCorp. infirmary. Make sure he is listed as the primary attending."

"Sir?"

"Must I repeat myself?" Kaiba asked. Ebi-san picked up the phone and dialled.

* * *

 _ **Seto (¬_¬)**_

 _I'm not a panel of investors, Moki. Try again._

 _You want to try and wake up Jounouchi. You said so yourself. Tell me what you really want out of this._

* * *

Kaiba's phone began to ring after Mokuba spent several minutes trying to compose a text and then suddenly stopped. It seemed that wasn't going to cut it.

"What's going on?" Kaiba answered.

" _I want Jou to wake up, you're right. He's been like this for a month...and it might be longer. His chances decrease the longer he's unconscious, they say. They don't know if he'll wake up,_ " said Mokuba.

"I can't guarantee anything," Kaiba replied. "He may not have a mind to connect the headset to."

" _He's not a vegetable. He's responding sometimes. That means he's there at least_ ," Mokuba said. " _If you're gonna say no just say it_."

Kaiba hummed, and out of the corner of his eye, he saw Ebi-san giving him a thumbs up. She began to scribble down details on a steno pad, which Kaiba read as instructions regarding Jounouchi's condition and what kind of care he was going to require.

"I never said I was going to say 'no'. I said I wasn't sure if there was anything for him to connect to, and that I can't guarantee anything. Does that sound like a 'no' to you?"

" _Seto...really? Really_!"

"Yes, really. In the next few hours they'll be transporting Jounouchi to our facility. We may be up all night doing the initial run. Are you prepared?"

Mokuba was talking, faintly, to someone else in the room. There was a high-pitched scream and giggle. Shizuka. " _Of course, nii-sama. I'll be over when they move him. See you_!" They hung up.

"Everything's ready to go, Kaiba-san," Ebi-san said. "I'm going to have the infirmary prepared for Jounouchi-san's required care."

Kaiba nodded. "Have R and D set up Invictus near there as well. I only need Nakajima."

"Yessir."

* * *

Even with the knowledge of Jounouchi coming to the facility, Kaiba felt mentally unprepared as he entered the infirmary. It didn't feel like a particularly large place, but it encompassed half of the seventh floor, and with enough space that even though Nakajima, Usami and Mokuba were already present, as well as a handful of technicians who were finishing the set up on the opposite side of the room, and then left, it wasn't cramped.

It must have shown, too, how unprepared he was. The door was slid open, but he stood in the threshold, overlooking Jounouchi as Usami made him comfortable, adjusting all manner of machinery around him.

His face as more recognisable now, though his bangs were swept into his eyes. How he wished, for a fraction of a second, that those eyes would open and look at him. Sucking in a breath, taken aback as Jounouchi's body leaned forward, Kaiba had to realize that he wasn't moving on his own. Usami propped him up, sliding his hand beneath Jounouchi's neck to make enough room for the headset to be placed on him.

"How's his condition?" Kaiba asked.

"Stable," Usami replied. "Welcome, Kaiba-san."

Mokuba looked up from the edge of the bed, being fussy with the blanket as he eased it over Jounouchi's casted leg. Kaiba was grateful; he didn't need to see the injuries.

"Is it syncing to him?" Approaching the bed, Kaiba saw where a red line was blinking on the side of the headset. It became a solid line as Kaiba leaned against the railing. "Seems there's still something rolling around in his head."

"Nii-sama," Mokuba whined. "Don't be mean."

"I'm being honest," Kaiba said. "Start running the program with the newest adjustments. We're going to use the wired version for now. Test subject may be shaky or completely unresponsive. If this is the case, the relay should deactivate on his side. Wake me if that is the case."

"Yessir."

Kaiba laid on the bed that was set up besides Jounouchi's, fighting himself to not look over. There was no reason to look over. Jounouchi hadn't moved. He wouldn't blink, wouldn't twitch, and wouldn't laugh.

That laughter.

That infectious laughter felt like it was the only thing he had been hearing in these tests as of late. No matter what kind of dream he was having, what kind of world he was trying to build, he was confident that Jounouchi was behind him, laughing at something idiotic.

Usami began placing the stickers on Kaiba's chest while the executive put the headset on. A syringe point went to his arm. Kaiba grabbed the doctor's wrist, and looked up and over to see where Mokuba was busy helping Nakajima in the corner.

"If Jounouchi becomes unstable at any point, prioritise him," Kaiba said, his voice hushed. His hand gripped tighter to Usami's wrist. "Do you understand?"

"Of course, Kaiba-san."

"Don't disobey me."

"I would never," he said. The tip of the syringe broke skin. Kaiba's eyes flicked to Mokuba, confident he couldn't hear.

"Not even for Mokuba," Kaiba added.

"O-of course, Kaiba-san."

Though his mind began to fade out, feeling the sedative overtake him, Kaiba felt a pair of hands around his. "Be careful, nii-sama," Mokuba said, though his voice was distant. "I'll be here when you wake up."

"I...will see you..."

Those words felt like they were floating, falling, with him as his body slipped into the haze of sleep. His eyes were open, adjusting to the world that was generating around him, the last of the pixels falling into place. It was a plan, white, round room. Infinitely long, and impossibly bright, to the point that his eyes burned when he first opened them.

Kaiba sat upright, his hands set on his knees, and he peered around the room. The 'hub world' that he had made, lacking any fringe details, but serving as a good place for his mind to start in. For their minds to start in, before they began to wander.

Across from Kaiba was a single door, closed, which allowed for him to enter his territory. And if he was correct, behind him there would be another door, which should have lead into Jounouchi's territory. Between both of them was a third door, where the two places could merge.

Standing, he twirled to the chair that was back to back with his, expecting a messy mop of blonde hair sitting upright, though maybe not fully awake.

But it was empty.

"Well lookit ya," he heard. Kaiba lifted his gaze from the chair to the other door. There Jounouchi leaned, arms crossed. A shit-eating grin was on his face. Kaiba couldn't find his voice. "Been a while, ain't it?"


End file.
